To The Promise Land
by iCorz
Summary: Dean made the deal and now all that's left for them to do is wait. A case distracts them, small town with a serious vamp problem. They will need to handle suspicious locals and a force more powerful then a pissed off demon. A female hunter.Dean/OC R&R!


**A/N: Supernatural does not belong to me and neither does it's characters. The only thing I own is the laptop that is being used to write the story!**

_"All I want is to have my piece of mind."_

The usually tolerable sounds of Boston were seeping through the Impala's not-so-state-of-the-art sound system. Dean made a mental note to fix it when they got some downtime, unfortunately at this rate they wouldn't have much downtime. Oh well. He'd had enough of Boston for one day, Sammy had shoved it in before he could grab it out of his hands. For once he wasn't up for grinding Sam's gears, or trying to. It was just one of those months. There were more important things to focus on, like the case. If you asked the Winchester that was seated in the passengers seat, he'd disagree.

If he wanted to get girly he could stop at the next cafe, order some type of mocha-ventte chick drink and talk about his feelings; about the fact that he was going to hell five months. Dean Winchester didn't do girly and he sure as hell didn't do feelings. He was a lot like his father in that way. The apple didn't fall far from the tree in this case.

He fiddled with the radio, one hand on the wheel and the other changing the dial. They were in the middle of nowhere, and the middle of nowhere didn't exactly have many classic rock stations on air. After two minutes he gave up, a frown forming on his face. His attention shifted from the radio to the tattered cardboard box on the floor. Dean reached down, taking his eyes off of the road for a split second so that he could attack his beloved cassette collection. Sam mocked him, but these things were valuable. He grabbed whatever he touched first, which happened to be an old Metallica tape. Yeah, he could live with that. He stuffed it into the player and turned down the volume, god forbid he wake sleeping beauty.

At least one of them was getting sleep. Between driving and trying not to give a crap about his one way all expense paid trip to the land of eternal torment, there was a lot to do. Not giving a crap was hard and time consuming, which is why he just tried to avoid the whole thing. He was going to hell, he'd made out with a demon - sealed the deal. It was done. Why was he going to hell? Because brothers did things for each other, like sell their soul in order for someone to live. Dean did that. Right after that bastard stabbed Sammy. He couldn't bury him, he couldn't just leave him be. Incredibly stupid move? Yes. It was impulsive. He'd promised their dad that he'd look after Sam. That was the single most important job. By letting Sam die, that was failing the job. Dean didn't fail, he worked it till it was done. He was going the extra mile. Their father had done it for him, sold is soul. It was Dean's turn.

Now they went from case to case, Sam trying to find a scapegoat for him on the side. If they tried screwing with the deal, Sam died. Dean had told him not to bother a dozen times, did that stop him? Dean wished. He'd accepted the fact, it was about time that Sam did too.

His weary green eyes swept the darkening world in front of him. It was getting late, almost ten at night. He wasn't an expert but it looked like a storm was moving in. A little weather didn't bother him, the fact that he hadn't eaten or had a beer in two days did. Sam had told him that if he kept ignoring speed limits they'd be there before midnight. He wasn't making bad time because they had just sped past the _"Welcome to Beford"_ sign.

He hated the case already. The second Sam had given him the location he had filled in the rest of the blanks. A rash if mysterious deaths and attacks in Beford and the surrounding area. From livestock to pets, then to the sheriffs wife and daughter. According to reports it was a bear, but that wasn t the rumour that they had heard. Smart money said vampires. The corpses didn t have so much as a drop of blood left in them and they had been badly mutilated. This they had learned after putting a call into the coroner, who seemed all too happy with giving up details of ongoing investigations over the phone. They d come because they knew there was a case. Other hunters had mumbled about Beford and a fairly recent attack, but to Dean s knowledge no one had stepped forward to deal with the problem. The things were killers, obviously ordering a fresh side of human off the menu was the hottest thing. They d dealt with worse, but bloodsuckers weren t exactly the easiest. There was way too much area to cover and on top of that they only had one solid lead. The chick that had survived the attack, Allison something. One lead was better than none

Needless to say that the case wasn't exactly the first and foremost on his mind as they rolled into town. The main drag went right up main street, such as it was. Beford, Pennsylvania was part farming community, part development and a hell of a lot of forest. Nothing special. They passed a small grocery store, a gas station and a barbers shop. None of which were entirely helpful. Dean let out a small sigh of relief when he noticed a neon sign in the distance, promising comfortable beds and affordable rooms. In less than five minutes the Impala was parked and he was digging for his wallet. Dean took time out to lean across the set and grab Sam's shoulder, shaking it lightly. "Rise and shine Sleeping beauty. We're here." Dean chided with a tone dripping with fake cheer. He couldn't have been less happy with this job. Ah well, the prospect of sleep and food brightened him a little. If Beford had any hot babes, that would be a strike for it. Also something that he would embrace with open arms and a smile on his face.


End file.
